Identity Crisis
by DinerGuy
Summary: Just once, Wyatt wanted to go on one of these missions and not have things go horribly wrong. Maybe someone should tell that to the punchy Nazis holding him prisoner.


_A/N: Happy birthday, Marlab! I hope you had a fantastic day and that this hits the spot!_

 _Standard disclaimers apply. Not betaed, so apologies in advance._

* * *

It started out like any ordinary Tuesday. Like every Tuesday ever, at least since this whole crazy time travel thing had begun. Unfortunately, it had not ended like any other Tuesday.

The team had gone back to New York City in the 1940s, to a random date in early October. Lucy didn't know what was happening then to make it so important, besides it being during the Second World War. So they had done the only thing they could do and boarded the Lifeboat to go after him; they could figure out the rest once they were there.

They had decided to split up to cover more ground in their search. Wyatt had given the other two _very_ strict instructions about what to do if and when they spotted Flynn. They were _not_ to engage but were to find Wyatt immediately. After all, _he_ was the soldier, and he was trained for this. They were not.

The daylight was starting to fade as Wyatt stepped out of one of the shops along the main road. It was late afternoon, and the tall buildings lining the streets were very effective at blocking out the sun as it sank in the sky. Even at four in the afternoon, it was already starting to grow dark. So far, Wyatt had had no luck finding Flynn. He had thought he'd seen one of Flynn's guys ducking inside a moment before, but either he'd been mistaken or the guy had found a different way out that Wyatt couldn't locate. As he considered where to go next, he glanced down the street and spotted Lucy hurrying toward him.

She caught his eye and started to wave, but then paused as if checking herself and then lowered her hand to her side again. Wyatt sighed. He was going to have to teach the others some basic spycraft if they didn't want to attract the attention of everyone nearby every time there was something to be shared.

Ever since they had gone back to Nixon-era Washington and Flynn had captured the three of them, Wyatt had dreaded the day they would be in a similar situation. Lucy hadn't been able to hold up against the bad guys using someone's life as leverage, and Wyatt knew if the situation were to happen again, they wouldn't be so lucky as they had then. He'd promised himself he would do everything in his power to keep the team out of any scenario where someone could use them against each other. Up until now, he'd been successful.

He should have known his luck would run out eventually.

He tilted his head toward an empty alleyway just to the right of the shop door and then stepped casually inside. Lucy joined him a moment later.

"What is it?" he asked, glancing around to make sure no passersby happened to overhear.

Panting from her rush, Lucy caught her breath and exclaimed in a whisper, "I found Flynn!" Her eyes were flashing with excitement. "He was just heading into the bank down the block when I spotted him."

"Did he see you?" Wyatt asked with concern.

"No," Lucy replied, shaking her head. "He was going inside, and he didn't look my way. But it was him!" she added.

Wyatt nodded thoughtfully. "Okay," he finally said, squaring his shoulders and starting for the entrance to the alley. "You go find Rufus and get back to the Lifeboat."

"And what about you?" Lucy's eyes were still flashing, but they carried something else now.

Glancing back over his shoulder, Wyatt met her gaze. "I'm going to get Flynn," he said matter-of-factly before turning back to glance up and down the street.

"Wyatt—"

Whatever else Lucy was going to say was suddenly interrupted by Wyatt backpedaling toward her. Before Wyatt could say anything in warning, two large figures followed him into the alley. His words caught in his throat as he took in the pistol each of the men had pointed in his and Lucy's direction. Wyatt could hear Lucy gasp, and a quick glance over his shoulder was all he needed to see the fear etched on her face as she raised her hands.

"Hands up," the taller of the two men snarled at Wyatt. "Or you're both dead."

Wyatt didn't recognize either of the men as Flynn's lackeys. Either the terrorist had hired new help or he and Lucy had an entirely different problem.

"Wyatt, what's going on?" Lucy asked in a whisper.

"Shut up!" the shorter man snapped, waving his gun as if to underscore his point. He turned to sneer at her. "We finally got you, Pierce, you and your little friend here."

Blinking, Wyatt frowned. "Oh, no, I think you have the wrong person," he chuckled nervously. "I—"

"I wasn't talkin' to you!" the man barked. He turned back to Lucy. "No use trying to talk your way out of this one. I can't believe you thought getting a bodyguard would do anything to stop us. We did warn you."

"Look, I don't know who you think I am," Lucy said, the nervousness in her voice coming through. "My name's not Pierce, it's—"

"Oh," the tall man interrupted, "we know _exactly_ who you are."

Wyatt turned to glance over his shoulder in confusion. Lucy looked just as much in the dark about the situation as he felt.

She shook her head slowly. "No, you really don't," she replied.

"Don't worry." The tall man grinned evilly. "We'll make sure you tell us everything we need to know."

There was no time for Wyatt to process the man's words before the butt of a pistol was coming right at his face. He barely heard Lucy yell his name before the dusk exploded with a _crack_ and everything went dark.

* * *

 _"Wyatt?"_

The voice drifted through the darkness and slowly prodded at his consciousness.

 _"Wyatt, come on. Please wake up."_

He took a slow breath, wincing at the pain that shot through his head at it, and heard a relieved gasp from somewhere above him.

"Oh thank goodness. Are you okay?" The voice was clearer now, and he finally placed it as Lucy's.

Blinking slowly, Wyatt let his surroundings come into focus. Lucy's worried face was above him. She seemed to be upside down, and it took him a moment to realize his head was resting on her lap. She was chewing on her lip as she watched him with concern, and the worry creasing her face was quite evident. Thankfully, she didn't look any the worse for wear, and definitely not as bad as he felt.

"Did they hurt you?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No. Well, aside from tying me up." She made a face and shrugged her shoulders slightly.

"What… what happened? Where are we?" He tried to sit up but groaned at the effort. He couldn't get his hands around him to push himself upright, not to mention his head had started spinning at the slightest bit of movement.

"Shh, don't try to move," she told him. "Just lie still."

Wyatt frowned. "I have to get us out of here," he objected. His gaze darted around the small, windowless room as he tried to assess the situation as much as he could from his current position. Now that things were coming more fully into focus for him, he realized his hands were tied securely behind his back. A glance at his feet told him his ankles were secured with several loops of rough rope; he assumed the same was on his wrists.

"Those two goons dragged us here, tied us up, and left us," Lucy shrugged, answering his question from moments before. "I don't know what they want. They keep calling me 'Pierce'—but I have no idea who that is."

Wyatt didn't reply. He closed his eyes, turning over the room's layout in his head. If he could only concentrate…

"Wyatt?" The panic in Lucy's voice prompted his eyes to fly open again.

"Huh?"

She winced apologetically. "Sorry. You had me worried."

"I'm just trying to think," he said, squinting up at her. "Just trying to…" he trailed off as a thought occurred to him. "Rufus! Lucy, where's Rufus?"

Shaking her head sadly, Lucy shrugged again. "I don't know. I didn't see him before those two guys forced me into their car."

Wyatt sighed. "Okay. Okay. We can do this." He hated to admit it, but he was pretty sure he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than Lucy of the fact. "Here, help me sit up."

She slowly pulled her knees up, helping him shift to a sitting position. Wyatt sat still for a moment, fighting the dizziness threatening his consciousness, then took a deep breath.

"Okay," he said. "Look around for anything we can use to cut these ropes. That needs to be our first step; otherwise, we'll never get anywhere."

"I tried that," Lucy said softly. There was a small, dejected note to her tone. "I didn't see anything. I'm sorry." Her voice was trembling, and Wyatt could see her throat constrict as she swallowed hard.

He sighed, quickly coming to the same conclusion as he looked around the room as well. "That's okay. Here, turn around then. Let me try to undo your knot. Then you can untie me."

Nodding, she did as she'd been instructed. She used her feet to help her scoot around in a circle so her back was to his. Then she reached out until their hands touched. Wyatt wiggled back slightly as well, using his sense of touch to guide him since he couldn't quite see, even with his neck craned as far as it would go. He moved his fingers up and over until he felt the scratchy fibers of the rope. It was tied just to the side of Lucy's right wrist, and Wyatt started to work at it.

It was a difficult task to do blind, but he bit his lip and furrowed his brow as he focused all of his thought on figuring out the knot. He worked in silence for a few moments, then Lucy's voice broke into his concentration.

"Did you get it?"

"Not yet," he grunted. If he could only get a little slack in the loops…

"Oh," she responded. There was another brief pause, and then, "Should I try yours?"

Wyatt let out a frustrated breath. "Just… hang on a second, okay?"

They both fell silent then. A moment later, just as Wyatt had _almost_ loosened the ropes enough to get his fingers into the middle of the knot, the sound of a key in the lock on the other side of the door met their ears.

There was just enough time for them to scoot hurriedly away from each other before the door opened. When the man stepped through the doorway, they were both leaning against the wall behind them as if they had been lounging there the entire time. Thankfully the new arrival did not seem to notice anything was amiss.

It was the taller man from the alley earlier. "Glad to see you're both with us now," he sneered. "Ready to talk now?"

Wyatt grit his teeth in anger. He did not like the look he saw as the man leered at Lucy.

Not one to be cowed by danger, Lucy swallowed and shook her head. "Look, whatever you want, we really can't help you," she told the man. "You have the wrong people."

"That's just what I figured you'd say," he replied snidely. "But don't worry. You'll remember soon enough. Of that, I have no doubt."

As if on cue, the door opened and the second man from the alley came in, carrying two metal chairs. Wyatt's stomach sank. This couldn't be good. A quick glance at Lucy told him just how scared she was, and he gave her as reassuring of a smile as he could manage. Then, in the blink of an eye, the tall man stalked over, grabbed Wyatt by the arm, and hauled him to his feet.

"Wyatt!" Lucy yelled instinctively.

The room spun around Wyatt, but he still struggled as hard as he could against his captor's grasp. It was difficult to get much leverage against the man, as the rope around his ankles prevented him from keeping his balance to fight back, but he refused to make it easy on the man.

"Dan, help me out here, would ya?" the tall man grunted as Wyatt dropped all of his weight and nearly wrested himself from the man's hands.

Having just set the chairs down, the short man came over and grabbed Wyatt's right arm above the elbow. Wyatt fought mightily every step of the way, but before he knew it, he was being forced into one of the seats. He tried to throw himself forward and off of the chair, but the men had positioned him so his bound hands were over the back of it and Dan now had a solid pair of hands clamped on his shoulders. Meanwhile, the tall man was winding a rope around Wyatt's hands and the metal bars on the back of the chair.

The moment Dan stepped back, Wyatt lifted his knees and thrust his feet up as hard as he could. Though they were still tied together, they weren't tied to the chair, and he was able to land a solid kick right where he knew it would count the most.

Dan stumbled back a few steps with a holler of pain. He was hunched over, his hands clutching his injury, but Wyatt had no time to celebrate the victory before a blow across the back of his head sent the room spinning again.

No sooner did his vision clear than Dan was back upright and unleashing his anger on the prisoner. Wyatt couldn't put up his hands to protect himself, so when the blow came, he could only sit there and take it. The man's right hook jerked Wyatt's head to the side, and he felt the pain radiate through his head as Dan's fist landed on his cheekbone. Another caught him on the side of the jaw, and then one to the pit of his stomach had him hunched over as far as his bound wrists would let him as he gasped for breath.

"Stop!" Lucy's voice rang through the room, but Dan didn't let up.

The tall man's voice broke in next. "Dan!" he barked. "Come on; we need him!"

It was obvious from the look on Dan's face that he was not happy with the orders, but he let up all the same. Unclenching his fists, he glared down at Wyatt, who was blinking hard against the pain in his head. Suddenly, there was a fist grabbing his hair and yanking his head back. Dan's nose was practically touching Wyatt's, and his eyes were full of hatred.

"Don't try me again," he snarled. Letting go, he turned on his heel and stalked across the room to Lucy.

Wyatt growled low in his throat. "Don't you touch her!" he yelled, struggling in frustration at his bonds.

Lucy's eyes grew even wider just before Dan hauled her to her feet as well. Even though she fought as well, she wasn't nearly as much of a match for him as Wyatt had been, and Dan easily dragged her over to the second chair. One firm push and she was seated, and Dan was tying her up the same as he and his tall friend had done to Wyatt.

"There," Dan said with a satisfied nod to the other man. "All yours."

The tall man grinned. "Thank you. Now, Ms. Pierce. About your spying activities, hm?"

"What?" Lucy blinked. "Spying? I told you, I'm not this Pierce person!"

Wyatt could hear the desperation in her voice, and he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. If Lucy was the one these men were after for information—or at least, was whoever they _thought_ she was—then there was only one reason they had brought Wyatt along: leverage.

And sure enough, the tall man shrugged. "Fine. Let me show you just how serious I am, shall we?" Then, with no further word of warning, he turned and drove a fist directly into Wyatt's stomach.

Lucy's cry mixed with the surprised grunt from Wyatt as the air fled from his lungs. He sagged against the ropes, gasping and choking as his vision grew dark. Whatever the others were saying faded out to the edges of his consciousness as he fought to stay alert.

"…not playing games," the tall man was saying as the fog around Wyatt's mind began to clear.

Wyatt blinked blearily across the room to meet Lucy's gaze. She looked like she was about to cry, and desperation creased her face. He knew she wanted more than anything to say whatever would save him, but this was a terrible case of mistaken identity. How could she hope to convince the man she was telling the truth and not just trying to evade their questioning?

But he didn't have a chance to ponder the question for long. Lucy's silent shaking of her head prompted Dan to turn back to Wyatt, and the soldier steeled himself for what was surely coming. Dan pulled back and drove a fist into Wyatt's side, sending searing pain through his chest, followed almost immediately by a fist to his jaw. The next blow connected with Wyatt's ribs, and he felt something give with a sickening _crack_ and a flash of white-hot pain. He couldn't hold back the groan of pain that escaped his clenched teeth, not even for Lucy's sake.

When the next blow impacted with his ribs yet again, the pain drove him head-on into the encroaching darkness.

* * *

Rufus paced back and forth just out of sight of the building where Lucy and Wyatt were being held. He needed a plan, and he needed one desperately. The only problem was he was just the pilot of the team—the coder who had built the time machine, not the historical expert and certainly not the soldier—and he certainly did not have any modern technology at his disposal. How was he supposed to mount a rescue against armed guards and who-knew-what-else?

An hour earlier, Rufus had been trying to appear as if he were just out for a casual afternoon stroll. He'd been looking for Flynn instead, of course, but he had had no luck. He'd gotten a tiny bit turned around as he had wandered along, and he turned the next corner to hear Lucy and Wyatt's voices coming from down an alley. Thinking they could regroup since none of them had apparently had any success, Rufus had started forward, but then stopped as he'd heard another voice drifting out from the same direction where he had just heard his friends' voices.

And then, before Rufus had been able to take another step, he'd heard Lucy scream Wyatt's name.

His heart had dropped into his stomach, and he'd started forward, only to have pulled up suddenly as several figures had exited the alleyway. Lucy had been first, her hands raised as a man with a pistol had followed right behind her. Before Rufus could even think about doing anything to help, a taller man had brought up the rear, dragging a form along with him—a form Rufus had recognized right away as Wyatt's.

Rufus had been fairly certain he was going to be sick, but he'd held it together and watched as the men had forced Lucy into a waiting car. Somehow, Rufus had managed to think quickly enough to locate an unlocked car nearby. He'd watched as the vehicle carrying his friends had started off down the road, frantically trying to hotwire the one in which he was sitting in order to follow them.

Now he was trying to figure out what to do, but no ideas were coming to him. Of course, it was not helping he had no idea what was happening inside the warehouse where he'd watched the bad guys take his friends. He'd seen them go in… and that was it. No one had come back out.

The only comforting thought that came to mind was that at least he hadn't seen Flynn go in.

Of course… that didn't mean Flynn hadn't already been inside before they'd arrived. So maybe it wasn't really all that comforting after all.

"Okay, Rufus," he said aloud, glancing around. "Think."

There had been no movement around the warehouse since the four had gone inside approximately ten minutes before. There were no other vehicles parked nearby, so Rufus's best guess was they were the only occupants. Hopefully his guess was right, because he was in big trouble if not. He had the vaguest of ideas, but it mainly consisted of his just rushing in and bluffing his way back out—which could only work if the two bad guys were the only ones in there besides Lucy and Wyatt. And hopefully Wyatt had woken up by now, because Rufus really could use the other man's help with what he was about to do.

It would be a long shot, but that had kind of become the story of his life lately. And besides, what other choice did he have? There was no way he was leaving the others behind.

Glancing around for a weapon of some kind, Rufus's eyes lit upon a length of pipe lying alongside the fence to his left, next to a pile of lumber. He hurried over to grab it, but when he came around the corner of the lumber pile, he nearly jumped out of his skin when a man stepped into view.

"Who are you?" Rufus took a step back suspiciously. He eyed the man up and down. While this newcomer didn't _look_ dangerous—and certainly didn't look like any of the men who usually worked with Flynn—Rufus still was not sure if he could trust him.

The man put up both hands innocently. He was about Rufus's height, with neatly-combed dark hair and a clean-shaven face. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and there was something about him that made Rufus feel like he could trust him. "Listen, just hear me out, okay?" the man said quietly. "My name is Tom Carter, and I can help you."

Raising an eyebrow, Rufus didn't budge. Sure this Tom guy seemed innocent enough, but Rufus had been doing this time travel thing long enough to know looks could be deceiving. However… the man had been lurking around the bad guys' hideout. That had to mean he _wasn't_ on their side.

Right?

"Look, we don't have a lot of time, so I'll get right to it," Tom continued. "I'm assuming based on that stolen car you were driving and the way you've been working up the courage to go in there that you aren't on those guys' team."

Rufus nodded slowly. "How'd you know about the car?" he asked.

"I saw you hotwire it back there," Tom smirked. "I've been following them myself. I do have to say, man, I'm impressed with how quickly you got it started too."

Being complimented for stealing a vehicle was something Rufus had never expected to hear. But he didn't dwell on the comment; instead, he frowned and asked, "Why were you following them?"

"The group I work for is… very interested in their activities," Tom explained. "I, uh, assume you're like any other red-blooded American?"

Rufus blinked. "What?"

"You know, patriotic? Determined to do all you can for the war effort? Defeat the Nazis and all that?" Tom prompted.

"Oh." Rufus remembered where he was and nodded. "Right. Of course!"

"Well, these guys? They're also involved in the war effort, but for the other side." Tom made a face. "They're Nazi sympathizers, and I've got it on good authority they're part of a plot to blow up the recruitment offices in the city."

That was not what Rufus had been expecting to hear. "They're who now?"

"Nazi sympathizers," the other man repeated. "And they think your friend in there is one of ours."

"Ours as in…?" Rufus was still having trouble processing everything so quickly.

Putting both hands firmly on Rufus's shoulders, Tom looked him in the eyes. There was something oddly familiar about the look the other man was giving him, but Rufus couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Tom took a deep breath. "Look, man; I know this is a lot to take in, but I need your help. If we don't, your friends are dead, and I lose my best chance at finding out what those guys know. Now, are you in or not?"

"Okay." Rufus nodded. "I'm in."

"Good. Now here's what we're going to do."

* * *

Wyatt blinked as the room slowly came back into focus. He took a very slow, concentrated breath as he tried to gain control over the nausea threatening his stomach. Everything hurt, but before he could dwell on the thought of it any longer, he heard a gasp from Lucy that pulled his attention away from himself and up across the room.

The two men who had grabbed them were nowhere to be seen, and Lucy was the only other occupant of the room besides Wyatt. She was watching him worriedly, and her expression softened slightly with relief when she noticed him looking up at her.

"Wyatt! Are you okay?" she exclaimed quietly. Then she made a face at her own words. "I mean, overall, of course. None of this is okay. I'm sorry—"

"For what?" Wyatt asked her, interrupting the apology. He coughed harshly, wincing at the pain the movement caused in his side. "Lucy, this isn't your fault."

"I know… I just feel responsible because they only took you to make me tell them whatever it is they think I know…" She trailed off with a sigh.

Wyatt frowned as his vision cleared enough for him to notice the blood that had dried on the side of Lucy's face. "Did they hurt you?" he asked concernedly. That was worse than whatever they had done to him. It was _his_ job to protect Lucy and Rufus, and he'd failed.

She shook her head. "I'm fine," she said dismissively, looking him up and down with worry written on her face. "You don't look like you're okay though," she observed softly. "We have to get out of her so I can get you help."

"Lucy…" Wyatt shook his head as another cough rattled his injured ribs again.

"Shh, don't talk," she told him. Her face creased in concentration just then. "Hang on. I've almost… got it…"

It might have been the pain clouding his mind, but Wyatt wasn't sure where the conversation had switched topics. "What?"

"The rope," Lucy explained. "I've been working at it this whole time… you loosened it before… and now… it's almost there…" Then her face lit up as she pulled her right hand from behind her back. "Got it!" She bent to untie her feet, then jumped up and started across the room toward Wyatt's chair.

"Lucy," Wyatt started, pausing to take another breath to try to keep the contents of his stomach where they belonged, "you have to get out of here."

She stopped in her tracks and looked at him in confusion. "What? No! Don't be silly, Wyatt."

"Lucy," he tried again, even as she rounded the back of his chair. "We don't know when those guys will be back, and they're not playing around. You have to go before they come back. Go get Rufus and get out of here."

Her hands fumbled at the rope on his wrists. "Wyatt—"

"I'll only slow you down," he said firmly, tilting his head back to try to look her way. He could just barely see her shoulder as she bent to her task. "I don't think I can get very far, and there's no way you can carry me." It pained him to have to say it, but he had to convince her to leave now, before the men returned to find her free. "Lucy, I'll only slow you down. You stand a better chance on your own without me."

At that, she fell silent, and then she shook her head hard enough that he could see even with his neck craned. "No. No. No, Wyatt, I'm not leaving you! I don't care. There's no way I'm going."

"Lucy—"

And then the door started to rattle.

"What do we do?" Lucy asked frantically, tugging harder at the rope.

Miraculously, he felt it start to give, and she pulled harder, seemingly feeling the slack as well. A second later, the coils fell free. Wyatt started to lean over to undo the rope around his legs, but the searing pain that shot up his side and through his head nearly sent him reeling. He cried out in pain and grabbed at his side.

"Wyatt?" Lucy was in front of him now, scrambling to untie the rest of the ropes and then grabbing his face in her hands. "Wyatt, come on. Breathe, Wyatt!"

He panted shallowly, trying to catch his breath in between heaves. Squeezing his eyes shut, he gritted his teeth and tried to bury the agony. He had to, for Lucy's sake, because once that door opened, they were going to be in serious trouble. If he could hold them off long enough, she could get away; that was their only chance now. He clenched his fists and slowly stood.

Lucy stiffened as he pushed to his feet. "What are you doing?"

"When it opens, you run," he told her. He was unsteady on his feet, and he cursed his shaky knees. This was not the time to pass out.

"I'm not leaving you!" she sounded insulted. She glanced around, then grabbed the chair Wyatt had just vacated. "We're in this together."

Before he could argue further, the door swung inward. Lucy raised her improvised weapon and ran forward—only to pull up as soon as she saw who was stepping across the threshold.

"Whoa! Lucy! It's me! It's Rufus!" The pilot's eyes were wide as he peered around his upraised hands. "Put that thing down before you kill someone!"

"Rufus?" she exclaimed, her voice thick with relief. "Oh my gosh; you found us!" Lucy dropped the chair, ignoring it as it bounced off the floor, and flung herself into his arms. "How'd you find us?"

"I followed you from the alley," he explained. Then his gaze turned to Wyatt, and his eyes widened again. "Wyatt!"

Wyatt waved a hand at him. "'m fine," he told the others. Then he glanced past Rufus, and his eyes narrowed. "Get behind me!"

The dark-haired man Wyatt had just spotted stepped from behind Rufus, his hands spread at his sides innocently. "Hang on; I'm a friend."

"He picked the lock," Rufus offered. "He's the only reason I even made it in here to get you two."

With a nod of greeting, the man stepped forward and extended a hand to Wyatt. "I'd love to stay and chat, but we'd really better be going before those men get back. Rufus here has a car waiting outside, but if you don't leave now, you won't make it out alive."

Wyatt frowned and looked the man up and down. He wasn't sure whether or not to accept the help; it could be a trap after all. But then another spasm of pain shot through his head, and he closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly to try to relieve it. He supposed he really didn't have a choice at the moment.

"Okay," he said, nodding ever so slightly as he looked back up. "But, uh, someone's going to have to help me if you don't want me passing out on the floor here."

"Right. Um, okay. Come on." Rufus jumped forward. "Here, put your arm over my shoulders."

Wyatt took a deep breath and braced himself to reach for his friend. Thankfully, Rufus leaned down a little to relieve the need for Wyatt to stretch too much, and once the other man had stepped in to help as well, Wyatt was confident he'd at least be able to hold up until they got to the car. After that… well, he was pretty sure all bets would be off at that point. Thinking forward to the jostling of the Lifeboat ride back to the present, he almost hoped he'd be unconscious again before that happened. Somehow, he felt like that wouldn't be his favorite thing in his current condition.

The four of them cautiously moved for the door back into the hallway. Lucy darted in front of the others to check the coast was clear. Glancing in either direction, she turned back and waved her arms.

"Come on, guys!" she urged.

Slowly but surely, they headed down the corridor. Wyatt clenched his jaw and tried to ignore just how incredibly much it _hurt_ to move anything, much less limp along between the other two men. If he wasn't very careful, he was going to just pass out right then and there. He almost chuckled at the thought of how much Rufus would probably complain if Wyatt did pass out and force the others to carry him the rest of the way.

The door to the warehouse was hanging slightly ajar as they approached it. Wyatt glanced up and noticed, but he had no reason to assume Rufus and… whoever Rufus's friend was hadn't left it that way themselves. It wasn't until he felt the other man stiffen that Wyatt realized something was amiss.

"Rufus, did you leave the door open at all when we came through?" The man's question told Wyatt he was right.

"No…" Rufus replied slowly. "You didn't?"

Lucy gulped. "Guys…? What's wrong?"

Feeling his weight shift, Wyatt glanced over to see their companion untangling himself from Wyatt's arm. "Rufus," the man said, "when I say 'go,' you three get to your car and leave, got it?"

"What? No. Got _what?_ " Rufus cleared his throat. "Tom, what are you doing?"

But before any of them could say another word, the sound of footsteps came from off to their left.

 _"Go!"_ Tom yelled, shoving at Lucy's back. He pulled out a revolver and fired a shot toward the steps. _"Now, Rufus!"_

Gunfire suddenly erupted around them.

Lucy screamed and ducked. "Come on, guys!" she yelled.

When Rufus turned and started for the exit, Wyatt's world suddenly spun around him, and the next thing Wyatt knew, he was lying in the backseat of a car. He blinked in confusion and looked up to where Rufus had both hands clenched on the wheel and was staring out of the windshield. They weren't moving, that much Wyatt knew—or at least, he was pretty sure they weren't. It was kind of hard to tell for sure with the way the world was still bobbing and weaving as it faded in and out.

"Rufus, we have to go," Lucy was saying. Her hand was resting on Rufus's forearm. "Wyatt needs a doctor."

Rufus took a deep breath. "We can't just leave him in there, Lucy! Tom Carter just saved our lives from those Nazis; the least we could do is return the favor!"

"How?" she inquired. "Neither of us has a gun, and Wyatt's is missing. Thankfully Mason made him take that antique collectible, even though Wyatt complained about it, or else we'd have to worry about upsetting the whole history of weapons invention on top of everything else. But we barely got out of there once. There is no guarantee we'll succeed a second time!"

"But Lucy—"

"Hey," Wyatt said, then coughed at the way the word scratched his throat.

Lucy and Rufus whirled around at his voice, both looking extremely relieved to hear him. "Wyatt!" they exclaimed simultaneously.

"Are you okay?" Lucy asked worriedly. "Should we try to get you to a doctor in the city? Can you make it in the Lifeboat?"

Wyatt swallowed dryly. "I'll make it," he rasped. "But we didn't find Flynn yet."

"He's the least of our problems right now," Rufus commented glumly, looking back through the front of the car. "Besides, the Mothership took off already. We just need to get home…" he trailed off with a sigh.

"Don't worry, Rufus," Wyatt said slowly. The world was starting to grow dim again, and he didn't even want to take stock of his injuries at the moment, but he blinked against his blurring vision and looked the pilot in the eye. "He'll be okay."

"You don't know that," Rufus countered.

Wyatt cleared his throat. "Yeah, I do."

The others looked back at him with confusion.

"Um, what?" Rufus asked.

"You said Tom Carter?" Wyatt asked. When Rufus nodded, he smiled and let out a small sniff of a chuckle. "Tom Carter, Nazi-hunter… spy… yeah, he'll be fine."

"How…?" Rufus was looking at him curiously. "What does that mean? How do you know?"

"Relax, Rufus. Great Uncle Tom's a… fam'ly… legen'," Wyatt said proudly, even as his words began to jumble together as he started to drift off. "He'll live… t'fight… a lot more days…"

As the world fully faded away, Wyatt heard Rufus gunning the engine and felt the car start to pick up speed underneath him. He hadn't thought of his great uncle in years, yet here Wyatt was now in the 1940s, not only getting to meet the man but actually getting to see him in action. Of all the things he'd thought he'd get to do in this job, this had not one of them.

He'd ponder it later, though. For the moment, being alive and on his way home would have to be enough, he decided just before he closed his eyes and let the inviting darkness win. The world would still be there when he awoke.

* * *

 _Fin._


End file.
